Contemplation Of Death Poem by Nero CaroZiv

Most of my friends, are they all gone into the world of light?
I dare wonder the promises of religion and sages, sitting alone, lingering here;
Their very memory is fair and in my head is bright,
And my sad thoughts never stir away and clear.


My contemplation glows and glitters in my cloudy bare breast,
Like stars upon some gloomy shady forest
Or those faint beams in which this mysterious hill is driest
After the sun goes down, of the day to rest


I have known better days of happy child thoughts in an air of glory,
Whose light does vex and trample on my days:
My days, which are now at best but dull, monotonous and hoary,
Mere glimmering and creeping decays.


No holy Hope! and no high Humility,
That once used to be high as the heavens above!
These are my lingering walks, searching within me,
If there still is something in that brittle me to kindle my cold love.


Dear, beauteous Death! I should accept you as the jewel of the Just,
Shining nowhere, like God showing nowhere, but in the coffin dark;
What mysteries do lie beyond your promised dust,
Could man see what you are? could man outlook that mark!

What lays beyond the curtain of death I would never know,
And no one else may find out; incomprehensive as the wind be flown;
But whatever takes place tomorrow or now,
That is to me and to the world is eternally unknown.


And yet as white angels in some brighter dreams
Call to the soul, when man does calmly sleep:
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes,
And into glory nourish and peep.



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